Orcs (24 page)

Jup pondered the fact that what he had to do must be done within the day. Because although the body of the dwarf he’d replaced would be well hidden by the band, there was a distinct risk of him being reported missing and questions asked.

They passed the temple, turned again and came to another large and extraordinary structure. It was smaller than the temple, but much more eccentric in appearance. The outer walls, of brick-sized stone slabs, were no taller than Jup. Or at least their brick part was no taller. Above the low walls extended a curtain of plain glass, in wood-frame squares, that met a flat roof. The building was box-shaped, at least two-thirds fashioned from glass, and the glass was misty with condensation. All Jup could make out through it was a jumble of jagged shapes and a faint hint of greenness.

Tacked to one end of the building was an extension of stone and wood, containing no glass at all. It was this that the custodian made for.

When they entered, a blast of heat hit them.

Jup registered the fact that there was no wall between this structure and the house of glass, what they called the arboretum presumably, that abutted it. A humid atmosphere pervaded the whole interior. The hothouse was stocked with plants large and small. They stood in containers on the floor and were stacked on shelves. Some were in flower, many weren’t. There were tall, slender-stalked varieties, short bushy ones and others that looked like climbers. He didn’t recognise any of them.

In the building Jup had entered, which was whitewashed, there were three large kilns, like oversized open grates, set against the far wall. All had fires roaring in them. Heaps of wooden logs and a copious pile of the black fuel stones were being used to feed the flames. Jup could see how at least some of the fruits of the mining and tree-felling were being used.

Across the top of the grates ran a wide clay gully, from which steam rose. The gully, an open pipe, entered the building through a hole in the wall. It channelled water that the grates heated and passed into enclosed pipes which snaked around the hothouse.

It was a clever arrangement. Jup admired its ingenuity, but had no idea why it should be necessary.

There were two dwarves in the room, one shovelling the black rocks into the grates, the other tossing in logs. They were sweating and grimy. A human was present too, sitting in a chair near the door, as far from the heat of the kilns as possible. When Jup and his human came in, he stood up.

“Sterling,” he greeted Jup’s custodian.

“Istuan,” the custodian returned. “New one for you,” he added, jabbing a thumb at Jup but not bothering to look at him.

Istuan didn’t take much of a look either. “About time,” he grumbled. “We’re finding it hard keeping up the temperature with only two.”

Jup liked the
we.

Sterling bade his farewells and left.

“There are water tanks out the back,” Istuan explained without preamble. “They feed the channel above the kilns in here.” He pointed. “The water has to be kept hot at all times so the plants are happy.”

He ran through the set-up mechanistically, as though addressing a stupid pet.

“What kind of plants are they, sir?” Jup asked.

Istuan looked startled that the pet could talk. That expression was quickly overtaken by suspicion. “None of your concern. All you need to know is that the temperature can’t be allowed to drop. If it does, you get a whipping.”

“Yes, sir,” Jup responded, acting suitably cowed.

“Your job’s to keep the fuel stockpiles up, check the water levels in the tanks and to take over banking these kilns when the others need relieving. Understand?”

Jup nodded.

“Now take a spade and start bringing in some fuel from out there,” the custodian ordered, indicating a door in the side wall.

The door led outside to an enclosed yard. There were small mountains of wood and burning-stones, and a pair of round wooden tanks, similar to very large barrels, mounted on legs, that supplied the water. He set to replenishing the fuel supply.

It was back-breaking work, and as neither his fellow dwarves or the custodian went in for much in the way of conversation, Jup undertook it in silence.

About an hour into the job, the custodian stood up and stretched. “I’ve got a report to make,” he informed them. “Don’t slack, and keep those fires steeped.”

Once he’d gone, Jup tried getting the other dwarves to talk.

“Strange plants,” he said.

One shrugged indifferently. The other didn’t even bother doing that. Neither spoke.

“Never seen anything quite like them,” Jup persisted. “They’re obviously not vegetables.”

“They’re herbs or something,” one of them finally revealed. “For medicines . . .”

“Is that so?” He approached the plants for a closer look.

“You can’t go in there,” the other dwarf piped up sharply. “It’s forbidden.”

Jup spread his hands out submissively. “All right. Just curious.”

“Don’t be. Just do the work and earn your coin.”

Jup returned to his chores and no further words were exchanged until the custodian came back. He sent Jup to check the water levels in the tanks with a measuring stick.

As it happened, they were low enough to need refilling, which proved a stroke of luck. It meant the custodian and the dwarves had to go for fresh supplies. Warning Jup to keep the fires banked, the man and the dwarves set off in a wagon.

As soon as they had left, Jup investigated the plants. He still couldn’t identify any, which wasn’t surprising as it was a subject he had little interest in, but decided it might be useful to take some samples to show the band. Selecting three plants at random, he carefully stripped off some leaves. It occurred to him that anybody leaving Trinity could well be searched, so he took off one of his boots and lined it with the leaves.

Knowing this could be his only chance, he made up his mind to take a bigger risk. He fed a plentiful supply of fuel into the kilns, hoping it would keep them going for the amount of time he thought he needed. Then he went to the door, opened it carefully and peered into the street. There was no one around. He slipped out.

When he was being escorted in he’d seen other dwarves on the streets, presumably carrying messages or running errands. So he walked with purpose, hoping any humans he encountered would think he was acting under orders.

He’d already made up his mind where to go, though it was a long shot. His reasoning was that if the instrumentality had been included in the Unis’ religious practices, the logical place to keep it was the temple. He headed that way.

Jup didn’t need to be told that dwarves wouldn’t be welcome in such a human holy place. Nor that the penalty for being caught there would be dire. But he saw no point in taking the risk of getting into Trinity if he didn’t try to do the job he had come for.

As before, the doors of the temple were closed. There could be humans in there. The place could be filled with them for all he knew.

He took a deep breath, strode to the entrance and turned the handle. The door opened. He looked in. The place was empty. Quickly, he slipped inside.

The interior of the temple was simple to the point of plainness, but its austerity had a kind of elegance. Its effect derived from the use of a number of different kinds of wood, rather than more obvious adornments. Rows of benches faced an elementary altar. The ceiling was high and vaulted.

Most striking was the blue oval window over the doors, which now that he was inside Jup could see had a twin above the altar. This second window was tinted ruby and also had the Uni emblem set at its heart. The light from outside struck the design, throwing an elongated X across the polished pine floor.

He crept along the aisle to the altar. This too was basic: a modest white cloth covering, a metal Uni symbol, a pair of wooden candlesticks, a silver goblet. And a cube of the precious clear glass.

It held the star.

Jup had assumed that if they ever found another instrumentality it would be identical to the one they already held. This turned out to be only partly true. The object he gazed at was of the same size and spiky appearance. But whereas the other was sandy-coloured, this was green, and the arms extending from the central core numbered five, not seven, and were differently arranged.

He hesitated. His instinct was to smash the glass and take the star, in the hope that he could smuggle it out of the township. His good sense told him this was a bad, quite possibly suicidal idea.

His decision was postponed when he heard voices outside. More than one human was approaching the doors. Jup had seen no other exit. Near panic, he looked for a hiding place: There was nowhere except the back of the altar. He all but fell behind it as the doors opened.

Stretched full-length on the floor, he dared to peek around the side.

Kimball Hobrow entered, removing his hat as he strode in. Two equally grave-looking humans followed him. They walked up the aisle, and for a moment Jup thought they knew he was there and were coming for him. He bunched his fists, determined to make a fight of it.

But they stopped short of the altar and sat themselves on the first row of benches. Jup’s next thought was that they were going to perform an act of worship. He was wrong about that too.

“How does the matter of the water progress, Thaddeus?” Hobrow asked one of the duo.

“All done. We could begin drawing from our own protected supplies today, if necessary.”

“And the essences? They’ll take to the waters without betraying themselves?”

“Once introduced they’re not obvious. Until they have their effect, of course. We run the final test in two days.”

“See that you do. I’ll have no delays.”

“Yes, master.”

“Take heart, Thaddeus. The Lord’s scheme proceeds well, and once we’ve triumphed here we’ll spread the scourge much farther afield. The day of our race’s deliverance is at hand, brethren. As is ridding ourselves of the Mani pestilence.”

Jup had no idea what they were talking about, but it didn’t sound good.

Then Hobrow suddenly stood and made his way to the altar. Jup tensed. He couldn’t see Hobrow properly, but had the impression that he was looking at the star, or possibly even handling its container. The dwarf was relieved when the zealot turned to face his cohorts.

“We mustn’t lose sight of the fact that the crusade to Scratch is of equal importance. Are we up to strength on that front, Calvert?”

At mention of the trolls’ homeland, Jup’s ears pricked.

“The battle at Weaver’s Lea was ill-timed,” the second man answered, a little nervously, Jup thought. “It drew too many away from the plan. It’ll be a couple of weeks before we have enough men.”

Hobrow wasn’t pleased. “That won’t do. The ungodly have what must be ours. The Lord will not be frustrated.”

“We can’t open hostilities there with less than a full complement, master. It invites disaster.”

“Then bring in more of the non-humans to free our own for this work. Let nothing stand in the way of the plan, brethren. We’ll speak again on the morrow. Now go about your duties and trust in the Lord. We do His work and will prevail.”

Hobrow’s men departed. But Hobrow himself stayed. He returned to the bench, clasped his hands and lowered his head.

“Give me the strength I need, Lord,” he intoned. “We’re eager to carry out Your plan, but You must give us what we need to do it. Bless our efforts to cleanse this land, that Your chosen may harvest it unmolested.”

Jup was worried about the time passing. If Hobrow took much longer he was in trouble.

“Shower Your divine blessings, too, on our mission to the heathen non-human nest at Scratch. Let us gain that which they have and which we need to do Your bidding. Keep firm my resolve, O Lord, and let me not waver in your service.”

Hobrow stood, turned away and left the temple.

Jup forced himself to wait a moment before leaving his hiding place. With trepidation, he opened the doors a crack. There was no sign of anyone nearby and he left the building, making as much haste getting back to the hothouse as he could without actually running. All the way he puzzled over what he’d just heard.

There was a moment of suspense when he arrived, as he couldn’t be certain if the others had returned. Or whether another custodian had visited in his absence.

In the event, the building was empty. But the fires had burnt dangerously low. He shovelled fuel on to them like a maniac. The task was barely complete when he heard the sound of a wagon outside.

Istuan came in and cast a critical eye about the room. Jup steeled himself against the accusation he more than half expected.

“You’ve worked up a fine sweat there,” the custodian said. It was as near a compliment as he’d yet paid him.

Jup smiled thinly and nodded, too breathless to speak.

He was assigned the back-breaking work of transferring the water from the wagon to the tanks. After that, there were other strenuous chores. He didn’t mind. It gave him time to think. One conclusion he came to was that what needed to be achieved wouldn’t be done today after all. But at least he knew where the star was kept, and he had some other information, although it made little sense to him.

The work continued in virtual silence until dusk. Then Istuan told them to make their way to the main gate to be picked up. They were allowed to go unaccompanied.

On the way, Jup’s fellow workers were no less taciturn. In the main avenue leading to the gates they were passed by Hobrow in his carriage. Sitting next to him was a human female. No longer a child but not yet a woman, she was dressed a little more flamboyantly than any other human Jup had seen in Trinity. In build she was chubby, almost fat. Her hair was honey blonde and her eyes china blue. But it seemed to Jup that her scowling face spoke of greed and bad temper. She had an unpleasant mouth.

When proud Hobrow and the haughty child-woman had gone by, Jup asked his companions who she was.

“Hobrow’s daughter,” the more voluble one replied, then cracked the first smile he had favoured Jup with. Not that it contained much humour.

“What’s funny?” Jup said.